


Ten Years, Two Months, and Three Days

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, Gen, Mid-season 3, Team Fluff, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo Fitz has never turned down a dare. Well, at least he hasn't in ten years, two months, and three days. </p><p>The story of Fitz breaking into May's bunk. </p><p>Tumblr prompt: fitzsimmons + "I dare you"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Years, Two Months, and Three Days

Jemma smirks at him, leaning forward against the table with a challenge in her eyes. He gulps down a breath and looks toward Mack desperately, but the larger man just holds his hands up with a deep chuckle. 

“I dare you,” Jemma nearly whispers. She’s alarmingly close to him and he’s a little bit afraid that he’ll never breathe again if she doesn’t back up. 

His eyes narrow at her words, though, and he leans even closer. “You did not just say that.” 

Daisy taps her hand on the table to get their attention. “I’m sorry, have I missed something here?” 

Bobbi laughs and shoots the other girl a smile. “If Fitz here is to be believed—“ 

“Which we’re not saying he is,” Hunter interrupts. Bobbi continues on as though he hadn’t spoken. 

“—then he’s never, ever turned down a dare.” 

“That can’t be true,” Mack argues. 

“In all the time I’ve known him, it has been,” Jemma smirks, sitting back and crossing her arms. 

“And how long is that again?” Hunter asks. 

“Ten years, two months, and three days,” they answer in tandem. Hunter whistles with a shake of his head. 

“Y’know, you two are probably common law married,” he says easily, searching their faces for the bright red flush he expects. They’re both intently staring at one another and don’t seem to have heard him. “Am I dead? Am I a ghost?” 

Bobbi smacks his shoulder where it rests between her knees and he shoots her a cheeky grin and she returns it before looking back toward the scientists squaring off at the table. 

“You really want me to do this?” Fitz asks, voice incredulous as he leans back. 

Jemma chews on her lip before answering. “Oh yes. I really do.” 

He shakes his head, making a little tutting noise as he stands with his hands on his hips. “Oh, Simmons.” 

“Haven’t heard that in a while,” Mack notes, sipping from his beer. He nudges at Daisy. “C’mon, Dee, you’ve only had like three beers!” 

“Yeah, well, I saved your ass today so I’m pretty tired,” she shoots back, sticking her tongue out at him. Her partner laughs, wrapping an arm around her as she burrows into his chest. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Tremors.” 

“If I do it then I get to dare you back,” Fitz warns. “Fair’s fair.” 

“I’m aware of our rules, Leopold.” 

The entire team makes a variety of shocked noises at the use of his full name. The blush that Hunter had been searching for begins to rise on Fitz’s neck. 

“Leopold? Really?” Mack coughs out through his inhaled sip of beer. “I don’t know what I thought Leo was short for—“ 

Jemma’s cocky smile grows even wider and she takes a pointed sip from her own bottle. “Shall I tell them your middle name, Fitz?” 

“No!” he practically shouts, just as Daisy suddenly gains some energy to yell “YES!” 

“If I die, it’s all your fault!” Fitz calls as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. “And you know my mum will never forgive you. She trusted you, Jemma.” 

Bobbi can’t help the face-splitting smile blooming on her face as she watches Fitz and Jemma banter and flirt. Four months ago, it had been seriously up in the air if they would ever even see their biochemist again. Then she’d come back and it was even more doubtful that she’d ever be this way again. 

Jemma responds with a little hair flip as she stands as well, grabbing an ICER off of the wall and handing it to him with a wink. 

“Yes, well we both always knew you’d die for some remarkably stupid reason.” 

He splutters incoherently and then sobers, staring at his team with slightly less-than-sober eyes. 

“I expect all you guys to wear my tartan at my funeral.” 

Jemma’s eyes nearly roll into the back of her head. “He doesn’t even have a tartan.” 

“I do!” 

“Not according to your mother you don’t!” 

“Alright, alright,” Bobbi cuts them off. “This could go on all day. Fitz, are you actually going to do this?” 

“Don’t talk him out of it!” Hunter protests. “I’d quite like to throw someone else into her line of fire.” 

“May loves us,” Daisy brags. “We’re the Bus Kids. Her little ducklings, if you will. You’re just some dude who shot her.” 

“And then nearly got her ex-husband killed,” Mack adds. 

Daisy nods. “Oh, and showed up at her dad’s house without permission.” 

“Didn’t you even get drunk once and call her Mel?” Bobbi can’t resist joining in. 

Hunter grumbles, screwing open another bottle and lifting it to his lips without audible comment. The rest of the group laughs and then Fitz raises his eyebrows at Jemma.

“Sending a man off to his death and he doesn’t even get a proper goodbye?” 

Her eyes flit over toward their teammates. It had taken her and Fitz several months to move their relationship to a more physical level, and even then, it was quite chaste and strictly behind the closed doors of their respective bunks. Making a split-second decision, Jemma surges forward and captures the front of his shirt in her hands. 

“Can’t have that, can we?” 

He really tries to suppress the groan that rises from him when she presses herself against him and melds her lips to his, but ultimately he fails, much to Hunter’s joy and Daisy’s blatant horror. 

“Oh God!” she shrieks, burying her face into Mack. “Mack please, knock me out. Please, please, please.” 

Fitz doesn’t hear her. His hands are tightly wrapped around Jemma’s waist, her fingers threading through his hair as she presses as closely as possible. The fact that his teammates are in the room completely escapes his mind and for the first time since he was seven, his mind stops whirring. He’s pretty sure that Jemma’s own busy thoughts come to a grinding halt as she nips at his bottom lip with her teeth. 

“Oi! C’mon, mate, this is too much!” Hunter yelps. 

Hunter’s statement wakes him up, but barely. He pulls away slowly, blinking sleepy eyes at Jemma as hers remain closed. 

“Hell of a goodbye,” he eventually manages to gasp out. 

“I’m so torn,” Daisy laments, “in so many ways. This is adorable but so disgusting. I’m so tired and kinda drunk but now I feel like I need to forget what I’ve seen.” 

Mack wordlessly opens a bottle and hands it to her. “Decision made, partner.” 

“So, Dr. Fitzy,” Jemma breathes as she steps back. “Do you accept the dare?” 

His tongue darts out to wet his lips nervously and he shifts awkwardly in his jeans, hoping that his extremely observant spy friends don’t realize what’s going on under his belt. 

“You know me better than that,” he says as he steps back from her, grasping the ICER in slightly shaking hands. 

Suddenly Jemma looks a little nervous. 

“What if she actually hurts you?” 

“He’ll be fine!” Daisy crows as her fourth beer kicks in. “You know May would never hurt any of us.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Hunter grumbles. Bobbi drops a swift kiss to the top of his head and straightens back up, watching Fitz head down the hallway with worried eyes. 

“This may not be funny,” she warns. 

Daisy adamantly insists that Fitz will be just fine, that her maternal instincts for her Bus Kids will protect him, but Bobbi isn’t so sure. Jemma doesn’t look so sure either, and she suddenly moves to follow him, wringing her hands nervously behind her back even as her step develops a little spring to it. 

“C’mon,” Daisy urges, standing sloppily. “We gotta watch.” 

The rest of the team yanks each other upward and tip toes clumsily down the hall after Fitz and Simmons. They watch as Fitz deftly picks the lock on May’s bunk using a device in his pocket before taking a deep, steadying breath and pushing it open slowly. Jemma backs up slowly until she collides with Mack, who steadies her. 

“I hope he doesn’t get hurt,” Jemma whispers, voice weighed down with anxiety. Mack shushes her as Fitz slips into May’s room. 

There is a moment of absolute silence. 

“What are you all doing?” Coulson says suddenly. The entire team jumps, gasping and clutching at each other as they turn to look at the smirking director. 

“God, AC!” Daisy pants. 

She’s cut off by a loud, high-pitched shriek and Daisy and Jemma look at one another with eyes blown wide. 

“Fitz,” Jemma whispers. She darts forward toward May’s room, hands flying to her mouth as she sees May on top of Fitz’s back, her knee digging in between his shoulder blades. 

“What the hell are you doing?” May grinds out between gritted teeth. 

“It’s my fault!” Jemma bursts. “I’m so sorry, May. It was just a silly dare to see if he could get by you and set your alarm for later in the morning, and—“ 

She’s interrupted by the quiet laughter of the older agent, causing her to freeze. In the hallway, her teammates do the same and Coulson’s smile only grows. Fitz lets out another strangled sound from his position on the floor and May finally lets up. 

“That was not a dare you should have accepted,” May tells him as she hauls him to his feet. 

“Fitz has never turned down a dare,” Daisy chimes in helpfully. 

“Never?” May asks dubiously. 

Fitz is still too shaken up to respond, so Jemma takes over for him in a well-practiced gesture. 

“At least not in ten years, two months, and three days.” 

May’s eyebrows shoot up. “Is that—“ 

“How long they’ve known each other, yes,” Coulson fills in. Fitz and Simmons both snap their heads to stare at him. “What? We can do it too.” 

“This is a spy organization,” Mack sighs in resignation as he looks around at his teammates in the dark. “We are literally tasked with saving the world.” 

Daisy snorts. “Someone made a mistake somewhere along the line.” 

“Wouldn’t that person be me?” Coulson asks as he begins walking away. Daisy and Mack trail after him, with Hunter and Bobbi following close behind. Jemma nearly laughs at the way they all look like little ducklings. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of who the hell put you in charge,” Daisy teases. 

Jemma moves toward Fitz to help him out of May’s bunk. “I really am sorry. I thought it would be—“ 

May stops her, holding out a hand with a stoic expression. “Simmons, don’t worry about it.” 

“I think she should worry about it,” Fitz interjects. May shoots him a look before turning her attention back to Simmons.

“It’s good to have you back, Jemma.” 

May gently squeezes Jemma’s hand and the scientist has to blink back against the sudden moisture in her eyes. She’s been back for four months now, and it hadn’t been until May’s return that Jemma had really started to crawl her way back to the way she used to be. May had helped her come to terms with the fact that she may never be exactly the same person she was when she was sucked into the monolith, and that has been invaluable for Jemma’s recovery. 

Jemma opens her mouth to come up with something, anything, to say in return, but then Fitz lets out a pained wheeze and she remembers why they’re in May’s room at nearly one o’clock in the morning. 

“Fitz!” 

She presses her hands against his chest in a comforting gesture as well as a clinical one. May can’t help but smile slightly as she watches the exchange. 

“Let’s make sure you didn’t break any ribs, hm?” 

May snorts. “I didn’t break his ribs. I knew it was him.” 

Fitz’s jaw drops. “How?!” 

Her face remains unreadable. “You think I don’t recognize each and every one of your footsteps? Skye’s are quick but long. Yours are heavy and a little dragging. Simmons’ are a bit faster than Skye’s and much closer together.” 

Jemma feels herself getting inexplicably emotional again, so she drags Fitz forward toward the door. 

“Well, I should check you out regardless, Fitz. I mean, feel you up. I mean—oh, hell.” 

May bites hard on her lip to keep herself from laughing loudly at the exchange as they blink into the light of the hallway. She gives them a nod and curt goodnight, clicking her door shut and reveling in the faint, happy noises of their chatter as they retreat. 

“You should come back to my room,” Jemma suggests. 

“I’m really fine,” Fitz grumbles. “She didn’t hit me that hard.” 

“It sounded like she did—“ 

“—Jemma I’m fine, it’s just a—“ 

“—I’m just concerned because you—“ 

“—your bloody dare anyway, you daft—“ 

“—I’ve got one more PhD than you, you can’t just—“ 

“Bloody hell, just kiss and make up, please!” Hunter shouts from the closed door of his and Bobbi’s bunk. 

Fitz flushes deeply, tugging at his ear as Jemma glances up at him from under her lashes. 

“You think I’m the daft one,” Jemma murmurs, stepping closer into his space as he remains frozen in the hallway. “But you’re the one who’s arguing against an invitation to my bedroom…” 

A teasing gagging sound comes from the direction of Daisy’s room as Fitz straightens abruptly. 

“Right. Yeah. Uh, y’know, it does feel a bit tight when I breathe—“ 

“Yes, of course,” Jemma squeaks out, clumsily grabbing at his hand. “We should really—check on that.” 

The next morning, Fitz tries his best to sneak of out Jemma’s room undetected, but Bobbi spots him in the hallway and gives him an exaggerated wink. Her teasing only gets worse as he heads to the kitchen to try to scrounge up something edible to bring back to Jemma’s room as a surprise. 

“Breakfast in bed?” she coos, leaning on the countertop and sipping at her coffee. She’s already dressed in her workout apparel and, not for the first time, Fitz wonders where the hell she gets the motivation. “Hunter’s only done that for me like, twice, and both times were only cause he’d nearly gotten me killed.” 

Fitz huffs as he rifles through the fridge. “Yeah well Hunter’s never really been competition for the best boyfriend award.” 

He freezes. He doesn’t need to turn around to know that his former replacement lab partner is grinning like the cat that got the canary. 

“So you’re her boyfriend then?” 

His hand goes to the back of his neck. “I—I mean, I don’t—we haven’t. Talked about it.” 

Bobbi laughs and lets the subject drop, opting to keep him company as he fusses over making scrambled eggs. 

“So, Braveheart, you’ve never turned down a dare?” 

“Why does everyone always go for the William Wallace joke?” he gripes. “It’s tired, really.” 

She ignores his usual prickliness and waits for him to respond to her actual question. 

“Well, I mean, technically I have, but—“ 

“But never when the dare came from Jemma Simmons,” Bobbi finishes. 

He glances up briefly from his task. “I think we’ve been spending too much time together.” 

“Me too, Fitz. Me too.” 

They fall into companionable silence and he doesn’t even smack her hands away when she samples his meal for Simmons. His hand trembles slightly as he arranges it on the plate and Bobbi can’t help but intervene. 

“Fitz, that looks like something from a public school cafeteria.” 

With some quick re-arranging and an encouraging squeeze of his shoulder, Bobbi feels confident that Jemma will wake up to a great surprise. He shuffles off to Jemma’s door, still in his clothes from last night, but pauses just outside. 

“Can you not tell her?” he asks quietly. 

Bobbi cocks her head to the side, confused. 

“About the dare thing.” 

Bobbi smiles and nods. “Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your street cred.” 

“It’s not that,” he corrects. “Just wouldn’t want her head getting any bigger. Once you jump through a portal for a woman—“ 

Bobbi scoffs. “Go get your girl, Fitz.” 

He grins at her brightly and she can’t help but give him her own in return. The door to Jemma’s room closes behind him and she chews on her lip. 

Come to think of it, she’s never brought Hunter breakfast in bed. Glancing down at her watch, she sees she still has an hour before the time he usually wakes up. 

Hopefully Fitz hasn’t used all of the eggs.


End file.
